


Sunday Dinners At the House of Tom and Lady Guinevere

by Eruanna_the_Fool



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Family Dinners, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Gwen Has A Crush On Merlin (Merlin), Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Season/Series 01, Tom Knows And Approves, Valentine's Day Exchange Gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29396373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eruanna_the_Fool/pseuds/Eruanna_the_Fool
Summary: Merlin always spends Sunday dinners at Gwen and Tom's. However, something made this particular Sunday special.
Relationships: Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen & Tom (Merlin), Tom & Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Sunday Dinners At the House of Tom and Lady Guinevere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meli/gifts).



> This is my Valentine's Day gift for Meli, as part of the Cupid Merlin Exchange 2021. I hope you like it!
> 
> Happy Love Day!

It was a Sunday. Merlin was two vambraces away from home, and so polished them with enthusiasm. Tonight, like every other Sunday night, Arthur would allow him to take an early dismissal. Someone else would have to bring in his dinner, and he could prepare himself for bed. At the moment, Arthur is tending to Llamrei and would not be back until much later.

Merlin set down the pieces of armour with a smile before dashing off. It’s not dark yet, which means he could steal a few minutes for washing. Down the royal chambers and into the physician’s tower, he smiled at and greeted the servants he met along the way. When he reached home and displayed the same energy to Gaius, the old man raised a brow. In truth, the boy seldom finds himself in such high spirits as of late. He simply shrugged and said, “It’s a Sunday night, Gaius.”

“And what makes this Sunday night so different from other Sunday nights?” asked Gaius, amused.

“Well, Tom found his old bagpipe and he promised he’s going to play for us!” said Merlin. When he laughed, the corners of his eyes wrinkled. Gaius hid a smile of his own. The boy’s happiness is contagious!

“Well, it’s getting dim outside and I don’t see your usual basket of berries and nuts.”

“I’ll fetch them after I wash.”

And that is how Merlin found himself carrying a small woven basket half-filled with wild berries and nuts. Gwen always marvelled at how good he is at foraging, and Merlin always said, “It is one of my more unseen talents.” In a way, it is true. After all, he was still the one who picks them, isn’t he? The manner in which they were found was out of the question.

The sky is now a twilight blue, much to Merlin’s joy. As he was strolling along the lower town, the stall vendors were already packing. He spun around as a familiar voice called his name.

“Merlin. What are you doing here?” asked Arthur, sporting a new saddlebag. The prince eyed the basket Merlin was holding, so he unclothed it to show the variety of fresh forest food. When he offered Arthur some, they were politely turned down.

“I’m on my way to Gwen’s. I just stopped by the woods to fetch these,” Merlin answered.

Arthur looked at him questioningly. “What are you going to do at Gwen’s?”

A woman around Hunith’s age tugged at Merlin’s arm, reaching around from a nearby stall and shoving a tie of asters. “On the house, young man. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but ears hear.”

Merlin blinked at the bundle of flowers in his hand. “Agnes. Uh, thank you, I suppose.”

“Guinevere is a wonderful young woman. Not to mention, she’s beautiful, too. Good luck, Merlin,” said Agnes with a twinkle in her eyes.

Merlin blushed even quicker than the widening of his eyes. “Oh no! It’s – it’s not – we’re not like that,” he stammered. “Gwen and I, I mean.”

Arthur snorted. “You look like a startled goose.”

Agnes ignored Arthur. “Whatever you say. Go on. Isn’t that her?” They turned their heads, and saw that Gwen was indeed there, probably doing a last-minute purchase of sweetmeats.

“Oh, yeah. . .I got to go, Agnes. Arthur.”

“I wish you a pleasant evening! Young love. . .”

“I told you! We’re not like that. We’re just having dinner!” Melin yelled over his shoulder as he ran to join Gwen. He tapped her shoulder.

Gwen turned and saw Merlin bowed, with one hand behind his back, the other offering a bundle of violet autumn flowers like a proper gentleman. Gwen laughed merrily then curtsied. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Tis a pleasure, milady. The gleam in thine eyes overshines the beauty of these asters.”

Arm-in-arm, they walked together the rest of the way to Gwen’s home. Agnes’s laughter echoed in the distance as Arthur frowned.

“Dad! I’ve got the sweetmeats,” said Gwen as she placed the contents of the cloth in a platter. “And I’ve got this gangly stranger. He followed me home.”

Tom emerged from the door, carrying a stack of bread. “Now, what did I say about bringing home gangly strangers?”

Merlin shook his head adamantly. “You’ve got this wrong. She kidnapped me.”

“Why would I kidnap you?” asked Gwen with mirth.

Merlin feigned smugness. “Because. . .” When he couldn’t think of something to say, he just extended his arms and sat down. “I’ve brought the usual.”

Tom, Gwen, and Merlin shared a hearty meal of pottage, bread, berries and nuts, and an assortment of Tilda’s sweetmeats. Tom’s promise went unforgotten, and soon, the tiny, poorly-lit room was filled with the sound of music.

Airy notes rose from the bagpipes. Tom made a vague gesture that Merlin understood so he pulled Gwen up from her chair, and started to do a dance.

“I’ve never seen this dance before!” Gwen exclaimed, biting her lip to suppress laughter.

“Oh, I bet you haven’t.” Merlin moved in front of Gwen and did something that resembled a jig. “Come on!”

Now they linked arms, and led an uncoordinated dance of their own; all the while, their eyes filled with tears of laughter. Soon the music turned less smooth as Tom could not stop the laughter of his own, so he played the closing tune.

Merlin and Gwen bowed in unison, clinging to one another breathlessly. But then a melody played again, but this time, it was more familiar to the both of them.

At Tom’s cue, they began singing:

_“Hold your ale and pocket, Ben,_  
_Make sure your belt is loose_  
_“Did ye swear to your lord_  
_that you shall come back whole?”_  
_Young lad Ben, barely a man,_  
_Huffed and stomped and said:_  
_“Aye, ma’am, o’course I did_  
_Diddle-fiddy-diddle-loo.”_

The silly song was short — it was just a tavern song, after all. They repeated the verse over and over until Tom tired and placed down his bagpipe.

“I can’t wait for next Sunday,” said Merlin as Gwen bade him goodbye.

“I’m sure you can. You seem to be a very busy person.” Gwen stood by the doorway. As Merlin raised his hand farewell, Gwen leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek before hurriedly closing the door. Merlin was stunned, and a little more than warm. Through the window, Tom narrowed his eyes at him the way they did when he and Gwen’s friendship was still new. But a twinkle not unlike the one in Agnes’s eyes shone in them, and the next moment he was smiling. Merlin cradled his cheek and smiled back.

It was a Monday. Merlin was changing Arthur’s covers as he ate when the prince suddenly asked in a small voice, “Why do you never have dinner with me?”

Merlin froze. He spun to look at Arthur, but his back was turned. A small grin made its way to his face. He knew what will make next Sunday special from the other Sundays. And he can’t wait.


End file.
